Maritime Laser Demonstrator or, Cause for Alarm
by Agni xx
Summary: "Why, Steven. Why, is what I'm asking. Why do you need a super-powered Navy ray gun, what, grenade-launchers not enough for you? What's next, huh, ballistic missiles?" The Navy has some new toys and Steve wants to play. M for language. Friendship.


Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or the show and make no money from either. Nor do I claim any actual knowledge on the subject of Naval weaponry aside from a quick and dirty google/wiki search.

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><p>"Can I ask you something?" Steve doesn't answer so Danny takes this as his sign to continue (not that he would have stopped had Steve said no, anyway). "Are you <em>literally<em> insane? What are you gonna do with a _laser gun_? Why do you even- no that's a stupid question. And-" he holds up a hand, flat out, palm up, right in Steve's face. "Don't tell me, Cath pulled some strings and got clearance for you somehow, am I right?"

He doesn't give Steve the time to answer, but the quirk of Steve's lips tells him all he needs to know.

"That," he tells Steve with a vicious slice of his finger. "Is _misappropriation _of _government resources!_" He can already feel the angry beat of his pulse behind his temples that warns him his bloodvessels are about to explode.

"How she puts up with your crazy shit, I dunno, and how you got her to do that, I don't wanna know, and _how_ she managed to even go through with it and not get caught? I have no idea. But why, Steven. _Why_, is what I'm asking. Why do you need a super-powered Navy ray gun, what, grenade-launchers not enough for you? What's next, huh, _ballisitic missiles?_"

It takes a lot, it does, it takes a lot but Danny does it, takes a deep breath (couple of breaths, in, out, in out, like he's coaching Rachel through labor and really, that is so not where his mind needs to be right now because he is currently trying to talk his partner out of something so much worse than shark cages and hanging people off of rooftops. Which, really, shouldn't even be an option, let alone the _safer_ one but hey, this is his life now and very little surprises him anymore.)

Except when, you know, your maniac of a partner is a former Navy SEAL who thinks that all of the Navy's shiny, new, and _extremely dangerous_ toys should be his to play with, too. And hey, what do ya know, apparently with the Governor and a pretty friends-with-benefits Lieutenient on call, they can be.

A few hours later when they land on the deck of the U.S.S. something-or-other, out in the middle of who-knows-where, Danny thinks belatedly that he should have updated his will, or at least checked on his life insurance policy.

There are many ways Danny Williams imagined he would die. He's not someone so inclined to think about the subject of death, particularly not his own, not when he has Grace to think about and he would never, ever leave her of his own violation, but this job, _his _job, he's been doing it a long time. He knows the risks that come with it; the same risks that turned the glowing fire in Rachel's eyes to smoldering embers, cold and distant; that took her away and his life with it. Death is a very likely part of this job, this job that Danny loves, wholeheartedly and probably a little bit selfishly, and he's known that from the beginning.

So it's no surprise that he's maybe thought about it once or twice. Maybe the thought's rolled across his mind, sandwiched between two other insignificant, unrelated ones. Something like, _Man, I fucking _hate_ freak rainstorms, This perp is a piece of work, I wonder what it'd be like to go like that? What time do I have to pick up Grace tonight? _

And okay, maybe not exactly like that because he does not think of death and Grace in the same breath, or thought or whatever, he just does not, because it is not acceptable and it just doesn't happen, but maybe it happens sometimes, not in conjunction with thoughts of his daughter, and maybe only for a second he considers just how he might finally meet his end.

Getting shot is not only likely, not only a high possibility or a high probability, but also an increasing frequency. A frequency which increases in direct relation to his time spent working with one Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett, and it's a frequency which, frankly, Danny could do without. But it's a possibility. A possibility he hasn't neglected to seriously consider and reconsider everytime a bullet grazes him and he's still alive to check the damage, to think just _what if_ he hadn't been wearing his vest, or if the shot had been two centimeters to the left or right or up or down, or whatever, and it never fails to leave him cold. Getting shot is all too real a possibility. Has happened, can happen again, and most likely will.

Other things, too, like knife wounds or poisonings or kidnappings and the really crazy shit like shark attacks or _fucking tsunamis_ and _volcanoes_, the kind of shit he never had to think about in Jersey, where the weather was normal and all you had to do was worry about getting shot or stabbed or mugged.

But out of all the ways, _all the ways_, Danny thought he might bite it, buy it, kick the bucket, shuffle off his mortal coil, of all the ways, he never really considered death-via-high-tech-super-secret-military-grade-maritime-laser-demonstrater-raygun-what-the-fuck on a boat in the middle of fuck knows where off the coast of _goddamn Hawaii_. And all because his nuts-as-fuck trigger-happy psycho of a partner decided to have an educational field trip with the Navy's latest toy.

"I swear to _God_, McGarrett, if you blow us up, I will _kill you_."

"Danny, that doesn't make any sense."

"Shut up, you. Just. Shut up. I will come back to life, and I will bring you back to life, and I will kill you. Slowly, and painfully, and then I will bring you back to life again and make you apologise to Grace for blowing me up in the middle of nowhere just so you could play around with a fancy schmancy laser gun. They have places for this, you know. You could, I don't know, go play _laser tag_ - do they have laser tag in Hawaii? Or, or Call of Duty or something. Something where you can blow off people's heads all you want and no one needs to deal with the mess or the grieving families. Get counseling. Get a hobby. What about golf? You like golf? I think you'd like golf."

"Danny."

"Steven." His words are clipped and he levels his partner with a stern look that says nothing less than _I hate you for this, and I will continue to hate you for this long after I'm dead from hating you for this because you blew us all up._ "I'm not-"

A voice cuts him off.

"Lieutenent Commander?"

The voice belongs to a japanese man with liberous amounts of grey in his hair. Danny looks over to see the man dressed in navy blues and has enough basic knowledge to recognise the silver stars that tell him this newcomer outranks McGarrett, and from the way his partner snaps to attention and holds out his hand, Danny guesses it's a pretty big gap.

"Admiral Kobayashi," Steve says, voice coolly formal as he shakes hands with the Admiral. "Thank you for having me."

The Admiral seems to judge Steve by his handshake and is apparently pleased with what he finds because he nods and rumbles out, "The pleasure is mine, Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett. We have heard only good things about you from Governor Jameson."

He, Danny thinks, must be out of his mind, or else he's got the wrong guy, because the Steve McGarrett Danny knows is pretty well known for his crazy stunts back on Oahu, and if this guy here knew half of what McGarrett was responsible for blowing up, Danny bets he wouldn't have even let him board the helicopter. (The helicopter which had, in fact, bought them to another plane, which then had taken them the rest of the way.)

But Steve's obviously back in top Navy SEAL mode, all rigid shoulders and at ease with his stoic I-am-a-human-robot mask in place and he offers the Admiral a tight-lipped smile.

Danny stews in angry silence as the meeting drags on and thinks why has he bothered to come, this was a complete mistake because not even did he waste the last four hours on various modes of transportation just to _get here_, where only plans of possible imminent death via spectacular explosions and a watery grave await him, but after all of that, after Steve dragged him all the way out here to the middle of fucking nowhere to witness his shiny laser light show, he has the decency to forget Danny even exists.

His I-really-fucking-hate-you-right-now waves must be radiating heat because a few seconds later Steve frowns and waves a hand at him and Danny thinks great, not only does he have the decency to ignore me, but he ignores me and then introduces me like it's a big unwanted onligation put upon his shoulders and fuck this what is he even doing here-

"This is my partner, Detective Danny Williams," Steve says and there's a lilt of a smile, just a quirk of the lips, but it's enough to melt the anger out of him and Danny sighs and puts on a smile and says,

"Nice to meet you. So, we going to see this laser or what?"

And maybe those were the wrong words to say because Steve makes a noise low in the back of his throat and the Admiral's heavy brow twitches and Danny thinks maybe, shit, he shouldn't have said that, because what if he's overstepped some lines and gets Steve in trouble (though he deserves it for this, goddammit, he's shaved years off Danny's life whether or not they survive the day) or there's some code he doesn't know about that he's just broken and it means they're going to use him for target practice and really wouldn't that just be the fucking icing on the cake?

But the Admiral rumbles a laugh and Steve's straight as steel spine relaxes and Danny feels like air leave him in relief.

"We have a few minor precautions to go over first," Admiral Kobayashi says and is that a _smile _on his face? as he waves them in through a doorway out of the wind.

"A few precautions" as it turns out included a long list of should-nots and will-nots and classifieds and what Danny can only assume were veiled and sometimes not-so-veiled threats against his person should he ever break his vow and share this information with anyone without consent. After agreeing to numerous things and making pledges and signing paperwork, they were allowed to move into the room from which they would watch the show happen.

Steve was more than a little put out to learn that he wouldn't be the one firing the canon, ("Maritime Demonstrater Laser, Danny. It's not that hard.") but Danny doesn't even bother hiding his relief. He claps the Admiral on the shoulder like he's an old friend and lets out a genuine sigh of relief.

"Thank you, man. Thank you." is all he says, and the Admiral takes it in stride without saying a word.

And okay, watching the thing fire and hit it's target offshore without breaking a sweat gives him a kind of primal rush of pleasure and maybe he kind of whooped a bit when their target exploded and he tries really hard not to think of the Navy using this thing on _actual human beings_ even if they are the enemy because, damn, this thing packs a punch and that is one way, Danny knows, that he never wants to go, thank you.

Steve watches the display with his hands clasped behind his back, face solemn under his white officer's cap and Danny also tries not to think of Steve thinking of this thing as a tactical weapon used to take out enemy ships or whatever. Doesn't like the image his mind conjurs up when he thinks of Steve's days in the Navy, sniping people from his ideal vantage point hidden in the bushes with camo paint on his face and a darkness in his eyes, a darkness Danny thinks he sees sometimes, catches it flit across his face as the laser fires and he knows, just knows Steve is thinking of Hesse and of his father and in that moment he hates Admiral Kobayashi and the U.S.S. whatever and this stupid Maritime Demonstrater Laser gun for reminding Steve of blood and death and the fact that his father was shot in his own home while Steve could do nothing to stop it.

Danny watches Steve's hands curl into fists and they remain that way, the tension riding high in his neck and shoulders, long after the demonstration is through and his hands come unclenched to shake the Admiral's hand and thank him for his time and the favor.

The tension remains and Danny watches it, tracks it, as they board the Navy-chartered aircraft that will take them back to Oahu. Sees the tension and the tightness around Steve's mouth, that flicker of darkness in his eyes even as they leave the ship behind and he's sick of it, sick of the pain and the reminders of death.

"Some show, huh," he says when they land at Hickam. Steve was quiet the whole ride over and Danny let him ride it out for a few hours, but now, now the silence is killing him and he needs to say something, so he does.

"Yeah." A little crease appears between Steve's eyebrows and it's not quite aneursysm face, but it's close enough to worry him.

"What's with you," he says, and he makes a show about being worked up about it because hey, he's a little worked up, all those hours for this and all they did was watch the show in silence. "I didn't spend all these hours flying from helipad to helipad to the middle of bumfuck Pacific to watch this crazy laser go off just for you to give me "yeah". I mean, I know you wanted to like, fire it or something, okay, but even the Admiral didn't have clearance for that and anyway," he bumps their shoulders together and loses a bit of his smile at the way that Steve tightens and kind of draws in on himself. "Anyway," he continues, "at least this way we don't have to fill out crazy accident reports for blowing up a foreign country or something. Imagine explaining that one to the Governor, huh?"

Steve just gives him that look, a kind of level, disinterested look that he gets whenever Danny is saying something Steve doesn't want to hear, like waiting for back-up.

"Look," Danny says, a little more passionately, leaning forward with his forearms on his thighs. "Look, okay, we'll take you and go to some laser tag theme park or something, okay, and you can put on a vest and run around with a gun and shoot all the things you want, play like you're a SEAL again and whoop the other team's ass and you'll get to fire all the lasers you want. We'll even get Chin and Kono on it, if you want. Bring Gracie and hell, Kamekona, who knows, the big guy might want some action. Sound good? Do you guys even have laser tag? If not, we'll fly out to the mainland and find a laser kingdom or something, but just so you know, Gracie is reigning _champ_ of laser tag, so if she whoops your butt, you don't get to cry, you hear me?"

And by the end Danny's hands are waving all over the place but some of the tension's gone from Steve's face and he's slouching just a little.

"Because the last time I did laser tag was with Grace for Kyle's birthday and Kyle invited everyone, even his older brothers and Grace, Grace is a natural is all I'm saying. She took those suckers down. She even beat me."

And then Steve cracks a smile and nudges him back and says, "C'mon, Danno. You let her win."

He smiles back and says "Yeah, okay. Maybe."

And he knows he's done his job and that okay, maybe this field trip to nowhere wasn't such a waste because Steve is smiling again and the darkness is gone from his eyes.

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><p>Notes: Okay, so a few weeks back there was an article about the Navy's new HEL laser gun, and all I could think of when I read it was that Steve would love to play with it. Thus, this was born.<p> 


End file.
